The Secrets We Hide (The Four 2)

“What about his family connections, friends, things like that?” I looked between Caiden and Weston.

“Winter? What’s this all about?” Weston leaned forwards in his seat, his whole body tensing up as he took in my seriousness.

I swallowed hard, glancing up at Caiden. “You might want to sit down for this.” He frowned but sank down next to me on the sofa, and I reached out to grip his hand. “Something happened.”

I told them the whole story.

The four of them sat in stunned silence, but as I described how I’d decided to check out Allan’s room, the air grew thick with tension. Caiden’s eyes darkened, and he let go of my hand, clenching his fists, and the others eyed me with varying expressions of disapproval. When I got to the final part, where I heard Allan coming and escaped out of the window, Caiden went very, very still. As soon as I stopped speaking, he stood without another word and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Shit. “He’s really angry with me, isn’t he?” I asked the room in general.

“You were irresponsible and you put yourself in danger. Fuck, Winter, couldn’t you have even given him a heads-up?” Cassius shook his head at me.

“Do you know what he was like when you were missing? He was out of his mind with worry. He’s afraid of anything happening to you—we all are, for that matter. You’re his world, and for you to go and put yourself in danger like that, without telling any of us… And on top of that, he finds out that Allan is most likely a bad guy…” He trailed off with a shrug. “Y’know?”

“I thought I’d be okay.” My voice was small. “I’m really sorry, guys. I honestly thought it would be a quick in-and-out kind of thing while he was downstairs.”

“The window, though? You could’ve slipped and broken your back!” Weston glared at me, the anger in his eyes mixed with worry as we stared at one another.

“I’m really sorry,” I repeated. The guilt swamped me as I took in their faces.

“I’m gonna go and investigate Allan. Just be careful, please?” Weston stood and crossed over to me, leaning down to kiss the top of my head, before stalking out of the room.

I needed to see Caiden. Standing, I went to follow Weston out of the room, then stopped in the doorway at the sound of Zayde’s warning. He spoke low and evenly, but his tone was coated in ice.

“He’s not happy. Don’t antagonise him any further.”

Without looking back at him, I nodded once, then slipped out of the room.

Heading towards the stairs, I paused in the hallway as I noticed the door to the basement was ajar. Acting on instinct, I switched directions and pulled the door all the way open.

The sound of the punchbag being hit drifted up towards me, and I tiptoed down the stairs, to be treated with a sight that took my breath away.

Caiden, bare-chested, his torso glistening with sweat, going at the punchbag with everything he had, absolute fucking fury on his face. The bag was swinging madly as he punched it over and over, his knuckles red and split—fuck, was that blood?

Why was I instantly wet?

I needed him. Right. Now.

“Caiden.” My voice was hoarse, but I managed to speak loudly enough that his head snapped round to mine.

“You,” he growled, and then he was stalking over to me, his eyes so, so black, a dark rage filling them. He reached me and thrust his hand up, gripping my throat, and pinned me against the wall.

I couldn’t speak, not because he had his hand around my throat, but because I couldn’t think enough to form words. I was on fire.

This was so fucked up.

He leaned closer, his teeth bared. “You,” he repeated, then sank his teeth into my neck.

Flames of desire lit up my entire body, and I barely registered the pain.

I wasn’t afraid. I trusted him with every single part of me—I knew he wouldn’t go too far. All I knew was that I was beyond turned on, and the only thought in my mind was that I wanted him. The throbbing need between my legs grew more and more intense.

How to snap him out of this? I reached down and grabbed his other hand, pulling it up to my lips before he had a chance to react. His head flew up, and he stood, frozen for a moment, his eyes glued to my movements as I licked across his split knuckles, the burst of blood in my mouth coating my tongue with its sour, metallic tang.

It was a spur-of-the-moment, totally unplanned action, but…fuuuuck. It worked.

He lunged for me, attacking my mouth, ripping his hand away from mine and undoing his jeans with one hand. Not quick enough, apparently, because he suddenly released his grip on my throat and pulled away from me totally, pulling his jeans and boxers off, his cock hard, thick, and heavy between us.